


no body, no crime

by heavingfuckery (immortalflowers)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: (about murder), Infidelity, M/M, Murder, Name-Calling, Songfic, Swearing, new murders his husband and then hides the body, that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalflowers/pseuds/heavingfuckery
Summary: The police are here to ask Chanhee about his whereabouts on the day of his husband's disappearance;akathey think he did it but they just can't prove it.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q/Kim Sunwoo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87





	no body, no crime

**Author's Note:**

> um yeah... sure hope no one sees my search history after research for this fic!!!  
> it's kind of based on the new song by Taylor Swift 'no body, no crime' and I wrote it in like two hours so it's not very fancy but I hope you enjoy it regardless!
> 
> just a side note, I don't know shit about chemistry so if this is complete garbage... pretend it's not?!! (I'm sorry)
> 
> please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed, they mean the world to me <3 thank you for reading!
> 
> my other [tbz fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183436)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yoongsicle)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/immortalflowers)  
> 

_ The roses are growing nicely this time of the year _ , Chanhee thinks, placing yet another withered stem he’s cut into the bucket on the floor; the dried-blood colored petals fall around him like a macabre rain shower.

“Sir,” someone calls out from behind his tall wooden fence, “it’s the police. Can you please open up for us?” 

There’s a second where Chanhee’s body sizes up with terror, but it passes as fast as a cold breeze, and he’s back to tired, sad smiles and polite words.

“Of course!” he yells back. “Just a second, sirs.”

Chanhee opens the doors to his backyard and lets the two police officers in. One of them he knows from  _ before _ , but the shorter one is new. “What can I do for you?” he asks, taking his gardening gloves off and wiping his hands off on his old blue jeans.

“This is just a customary visit,” the taller one says at the same time the shorter asks: “Can you tell us where you were on the day your husband went missing?”

Chanhee sighs.  _ Here we go again. _

* * *

There’s precisely one day of each year that Chanhee clears for himself and himself only. On that day, he lets himself grieve and then gets drunk with his friends in a town six hours away from his home. At least, from what he calls his  _ home  _ these days.

That day, now months ago, was like all the others that preceded it. He got up and kissed his husband awake. He made himself a cup of green tea and sat in the kitchen waiting for the bastard to finally get up.

He packed his bags the night before, and now all he needed were the car keys that went missing somewhere between his husband coming home from work and them waking up together.

“Going somewhere?” he asked in a grave voice Chanhee hated with all his being. Before, he had thought it was attractive, sexy even. But now he just wanted him to shut the fuck up and let him leave.

“Don’t play stupid, honey,” Chanhee said, turning around on the revolving chair to look at his husband rummage around the fridge. 

“Why do you have to go each year?” he asked, “They hated you.” But that’s not what this all was about.

“Just give me the keys and I’ll be out of your hair for the next two days,” Chanhee said. “I bet you would like to have a poker night with your buddies, huh?” 

He regarded Chanhee curiously before stepping into his full height and towering over Chanhee who was still sitting. “Be honest with me,” he said in that disgusting voice of his, so full of self-righteousness, “if you’re fucking someone else, I will end your life. You hear me?” 

Chanhee laughed silently and looked away. “Just give me the keys, baby,” he said in a sickly sweet voice. “Please,” he added, batting his eyelashes prettily, kissing him on his unshaven cheek. The cologne he used had almost made him gag.

His husband took them out of his pocket and placed them in Chanhee’s expecting hand. 

“You think I’m joking,” he stated. “Cross me one more fucking time, and you’ll see if I’m joking.”

* * *

“And then I drove up to the town,” Chanhee finishes the story. 

“And there was nothing suspicious in the way he acted that day?” now the taller one asks. 

“Tea?” Chanhee asks politely, taking three Royal Copenhagen cups and saucers from the kitchen cupboard. Both of them nod, and so Chanhee pours three cups of hibiscus and honey tea.

“No,” Chanhee answers the officer’s question. “Well if he kissed me a little harder that morning, that’s between me and him, no?” he chuckles good-naturedly looking from one to the other.

“Yes, of course, sir,” the same one answers, looking embarrassed.

“Can you tell us what you did when you arrived at the hotel? We—”

“I’m not a suspect, am I?” Chanhee interrupts, looking the shorter officer in the eye and amping up his play of the grieving husband. “You didn’t find him dead, did you?” he asks in faux shock, dropping the kettle on the counter with a loud bang. 

They both jump up, distressed by Chanhee’s antics.

“No, no,” the taller one tries to calm him down. Coming around the counter to place a calming hand on Chanhee’s arm, “We’re just rechecking the facts before we rule the case as a disappearance.”

And, oh, Chanhee wants to celebrate the news, but first, he needs to get rid of these idiots.

“Could you continue your story?” the shorter one repeats, settling down in the chair opposite Chanhee’s. 

The second one looks at him as if Chanhee might burst into tears at any moment. Chanhee catches him looking at his colleague several times, the other ignoring him; Chanhee grinds his teeth. _ For fucks sake. _

“Do you mind?” he asks gently. 

Chanhee sniffles loudly and continues his story.

* * *

It wasn’t until he stopped at the first gas station that he realized he had left his phone at home. 

He said goodbye to the cashier and took the receipt from her. She smiled a little too sweetly when saying goodbye back, and Chanhee indulged her for another few seconds of chatting before he returned to his car.

He put the car in drive and drove another thirty minutes until he found the first exit. If he hurried, he’d be home and back on the road in no more than three hours.

Arriving in front of his house, a sleek red Volvo waited in the space where Chanhee’s car should be, and it made his fucking blood boil. He had the nerve to threaten Chanhee and then the second he had left the house he brought someone else in their bed. In  _ Chanhee's  _ house.

Hopefully, it was a good fuck. Hopefully, it was worth it - because Chanhee was never sure how far he could go in his anger.

Maybe it was time to find out.

Their house stood mostly alone in a long narrow street leading deeper into the woods, far enough from the neighbors that if someone were to scream, they wouldn’t be heard.

Chanhee parked the car some way down the road and into the forest, behind large bushes and foliage, so that he couldn’t be seen by any passersby, but in turn, would see the red car once it backed out of his driveway.

The fact that a petite, red-haired woman left his house only rubbed salt further into his wound. Now, there was a simmering hatred for his husband boiling under his skin, so strong in its intensity, Chanhee thought his skin and blood would turn to diamonds under pressure.

He left his car where he parked it, and walked the five minutes to his own house, ringing the doorbell once he arrived.

“Did you forget something, darling?” his husband’s voice called out when he opened the door but once he saw who was on the other side, he stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth closed with an audible click, the muscle in his jaw working.

“Not who you expected to see?” An understatement of the year.

Chanhee smiled slow, cruel,  _ damaging _ , and pushed past his husband. He went straight for the liquor cabinet in the kitchen, laughing all the while. 

“What—What are you doing back home?” he asked, standing in the doorway like he wasn’t allowed to pass the threshold.

And he wasn’t. Not really. This was Chanhee’s territory now, and he prowled around it like a hungry tiger in a cage.

“What—what,” Chanhee mocked with a laugh. “Remember what you told me this morning? Does the same not apply to you?” he took a big gulp of his whiskey.

“I-Chanhee… It’s not what you think… She’s—We’re just friends, nothing more…” he stuttered in his excuses.

And this simmering anger under Chanhee’s skin was reaching its boiling point.

“Just friends? Do you fuck all your friends,  _ honey _ ?” Chanhee asked sardonically.

“That’s your job,” his husband muttered.

“What was that?” 

“You can’t possibly say you haven’t cheated on me with those—those  _ friends of yours _ ! I know that you whore around whenever you leave me, you bitch!” he raised his voice, pushing past the invisible boundary and getting closer and closer to Chanhee who was standing on the other side of the dining table putting as much space between them as he could.

“Are you genuinely fucking kidding me right now?! I can’t get one fucking day of the year to visit my parents’ graves without you—what—cheating on me?!” Chanhee yelled back.

His husband gave a mocking, angry laugh before he lunged at him. Chanhee took the first thing his hands caught onto—a newly sharpened kitchen knife. 

Before he even knew it, the knife was no longer in his hands but wedged dangerously close to his husband’s windpipe, spraying warm scarlet blood all over Chanhee and his god damn kitchen floor.

* * *

“Hmm,” the shorter one mutters, “This was confirmed by your… friends. Yes?”

“Yes, uh, Kim Sunwoo and Ji Changmin?” Chanhee looks innocently at the other officer, asking with his eyes he confirms it for him. He takes a delicate sip of his tea, it’s mild now; bitter and ruined. 

“Yes, we’ve checked with them, they confirmed Mr. Choi’s story. They met up in their house for a few hours. There’s also the gas station camera footage. Hell, even the graveyard groundskeeper confirmed she saw Mr. Choi in front of his parents’ grave,” he nods, looking at what the shorter officer is writing down and frowning slightly.

“Is there a problem?” Chanhee asks, his voice getting higher in alarm.

“No,” they say in unison. The taller one even smiles at Chanhee, probably hoping it would put him at ease. What a fucking idiot.

“Well, actually,” the shorter starts uncertainly, “it doesn’t make much sense that he would leave everything at home, and just up and go, you know?”

After a few seconds of silence, Chanhee murmurs: “Are you asking me that?” 

The officer laughs. “Well is there anyone else in the room with us?”

Chanhee sighs, "I've already talked about his debts and ties to the local mafia... Do I have to go through all of this again?" 

* * *

“Changmin… Changmin I fucked up,” Chanhee whispered into the phone like if he spoke any louder someone would be able to hear him. He pointedly looked away from the body lying on what used to be a pristine kitchen floor.

“What happened?” but it’s not Changmin who had answered the phone, and it shook Chanhee into clarity. 

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ , Sunwoo. Honey, put Changmin on the phone,” he begged. He could feel the panic eating away at his brain, he could feel it corroding his common sense. He just needed to keep himself lucid for a few more hours. He  _ needed  _ to fix this.

“He’s not home,” Sunwoo said, yawning loudly into the receiver. “Are you okay? You sound kind of weird.”

“No, no, I’m—I’m fine. I just need Changmin right now. Where did he go? Why didn’t he take his phone with him?” Chanhee couldn’t laugh at the irony of it all.

“He went on a run like an hour ago. He should be back soon…” Sunwoo trailed off. “What’s going on?” 

“I—You need to call me when Changmin comes home, okay? I’ll tell you everything then.” Chanhee disconnected the call.

He moved all the rugs that were on his way to the downstairs bathroom where the bathtub was located so that his way to and from the kitchen was unobstructed. He was already going to have to burn everything he was wearing, so he didn’t bother taking his clothes off.

He took his husband by the arms and started pulling him along into the bathroom. The bastard was shorter than him but Chanhee felt as if he was pulling a huge sack of stones rather than a person.

He went back to the kitchen and took a plastic bag from the drawer to put the clothes once he took them off his husband's corpse. 

After that was done, he propped the body up on the side of the bathtub, and climbed inside it, pulling the dead body in as well.

The phone started ringing so suddenly it almost made him fall but he threw his hands out and found purchase on the wall, keeping himself upright, rushing to answer.

“What’s going on? Sunwoo said you called and sounded really weird—”

“You said if I ever needed help with anything you’d help me, right?” Chanhee interjected.

“Of course,” Changmin said without hesitation. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I… killed him,” he whispered. “I fucking… Changmin, I  _ killed  _ him,” he still sounded like he was convincing himself; like none of it was true.

“What? Who?” Changmin asked, shushing Sunwoo on the other side of the line.

“I killed my—my husband. He cheated on me and I caught him, and… It was an accident—I wasn’t thinking! I just grabbed the knife and suddenly I was stabbing him and I couldn’t stop,” he rambled. “I can’t go to prison, Changmin. Please help me.”

“Is this some kind of prank? Because if so, it’s not funny Chanhee. Cut it out,” Changmin responded angrily.

“No, no. There’s a dead body in my bathtub, help me get rid of it. Please, I’m begging you. I know this is too much to ask for but if you’ve ever loved me… just please help me. I don’t know what to do.” Chanhee was on the verge of tears and he found it strange how there were still emotions left in him after committing such a horrible crime.

“Okay, okay. Where are you now? Are you in the car?” Changmin asked, finally deciding to believe him.

“At home. I put his body in the tub, took the clothes off, and now I don’t know what to do,” he sniffled.

“I need you to find everything with sodium hydroxide in it. Can you do that for me?” Chanhee heard him whispering something to Sunwoo. 

Chanhee nodded before he realized that Changmin couldn’t see him. “Yes, yes. Okay, I can do that.”

“So check all your cleaning products. Oven cleaner, drain opener, detergents… Whatever you can find. After you’ve checked everything you need to pour it into the bathtub and then get boiling water,” Changmin explained. “Are you still with me?” 

“I’m here,” Chanhee sniffled again. 

“Okay. Whatever’s left in the bathtub, it should be easy to grind it up. It’s good plant food for the flower bed,” Changmin said quietly, seriously.

“You're kidding me,” he choked on a bitter laugh when Changmin didn’t say anything. “Okay, okay. Thank you for helping me, please don’t tell Sunwoo anything yet, I don’t want to worry him.” 

“He’s already worried enough baby… We’re gonna get ready and we’ll come to help you okay?” Changmin reassured him.

“No! I’m supposed to be visiting my parents today. You need to be my alibi,” Chanhee said, already searching for anything useful under the sink. “I’ll call you later and you can come tomorrow, you’ve helped enough.”

“Just don’t send us texts and call if anything happens,” Changmin sighed. “I wish I was there to help you. We'll do everything we can here. We love you, you know that?”

“I love you too. So much,” Chanhee said, hanging up and getting to business. 

* * *

“I don’t understand what you’re insinuating,” Chanhee looks at him innocently over the rim of his cup. Their cups are still full. Chanhee briefly wonders if they think he’ll be so stupid to poison them in the middle of the day in his own fucking house. He's not a fairytale witch for fuck's sake.

“Your friend, Ji Changmin, what does he do for a living?” the shorter officer keeps pushing.

“He works in a lab. Why is this important again?” Chanhee asks, and if he were speaking any more sweetly, he’d start melting in the warmth of his house.

“People don’t disappear just like that,” he smiles, “but maybe if you had someone who knows what they’re doing… Well, maybe they could.”  _ Oh, isn't that a thought? _

Chanhee stands up abruptly, making the police officers blink at him in alarm. The shorter one even goes as far as to place his hand on the gun. They are afraid of him; a smile curls on Chanhee’s lips.

“Are we done here?” he asks. “Because I’m politely asking you to leave.”

They exchange baffled looks as if they didn’t just barge into Chanhee’s home, asking for answers that simply don’t exist.

He follows them into his backyard, back toward the doors they first came in. 

“We’ll keep you posted on any developments regarding the case,” the taller one says, his voice exuding sympathy. 

“You know, they say  _ If there’s no body, there’s no _ —” the shorter one begins but Chanhee slams the door in his face before he can finish.

He takes the bouquet of vibrant dark red and white roses he cut while pruning the rose bed, and puts them in the vase.

"Those are pretty," Sunwoo says, coming behind him and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

"I like the red ones—the color is very vibrant," Changmin says, hugging him and placing a kiss on the other side.

“Yes, they're growing nicely this time of the year,” Chanhee agrees, smiling.


End file.
